of course it had to be them though

Insomnia (M)

Prompt: 💕+ Tae +“You have to be very very quiet, the others are around.”

Pairing: Kim Taehyung x Reader

Warnings: moaning denial, dirty talk, fingering, Dom!Taehyung, almost getting caught

Notes: For my 3k present <3  2k Words

Originally posted by yourpinkpill

There was complete silence in the dorm room of the two 95 liners, nothing to be seen since darkness enveloped the area as soon as the clock struck eleven. It had taken only a little time to get adjusted to the black, silhouettes easily spotted due to the light coming from the green digital clock on the bedside table which separated two queen-sized beds.

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2

“Smile for the camera Damian!!”

“TT. Never Kent.”

(I wanted the first image to look like a photograph, the second is the original, before I messed around with it.)

Bruised (Richie/Eddie) 2/12

Summary: It’s 1993 and the summer from many years ago is dead and gone. Many have drifted apart from the Losers club and its at the point where there is no club at all. The atmosphere is cold just like the winter months and the only blushes to be found are the ones that are caused from the piercing spikes of cold that heat skin up. Being a teenage boy is hard; especially for the two boys that now count each other as strangers. In which both boys make a plan, but both disrupt each others.

Warning(s): Depression, angst and fluff throughout the whole series, suicide attempt

A/N: Im so happy at how much support part 1 got?? Thankyou all so so so fucking much ily all also!! credit to @finn-got-tall for an idea in one of the scenes!! (I wont reveal which scene bc i want people to just read) but ty lovely

Part 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12

Eddie and Richie blinked at each other, stunned to see one another in such a strange coincidence. Eddie still had his hand up, but Richie still hadn’t took it. Richie merely brought his hand up that held the cigarette, taking a drag and allowing the toxic waste to decay against his lungs. Eddie visibly cringed at the sight, but stayed silent; he only continued to watch in hope that Richie would somehow step down. Richie took away the small stick, blowing the smoke out slowly and staring at Eddie through his large obnoxious eye glasses.

“Why are you here, Eds?” Richie asked, as if a day hadn’t passed since they last talked.

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reddie fall headcanons

- they walk to and from school since the weather is so nice and richie makes sure that he crunches ever single leaf possible

- richie loves wearing red, orange, and yellow sweaters when the weather begins changing and eddie absolutely adores it. 

- eddie will sometimes steal one of the sweaters and wear it to school and richie turns to him in first period and asks, “That my sweater?” “Yeah.” “Okay.” But richie is secretly screaming inside and he has beverly snap a “candid” of them holding hands at lunch with her polaroid. 

- richie plans a surprise date where they go to the barrens and make leaf piles and jump in them, then they’ll go into town and richie gets apple cider and eddie gets hot cocoa

- of course, when they were younger they had thanksgiving with their own families, but as richie got older and into high school, his parents began to care less and less about including richie in holidays. eddie realizes this and invites him over to his family thanksgiving even though all of his weird cousins and aunts and uncles come over. richie enjoys it nonetheless and loves every awkward hug, cheek kiss, and family joke. when eddie’s grandma plants a big smooch on his cheek, richie makes fun of his for the lipstick left on his cheek. after a few years of seeing richie at thanksgivings, they adopt him in their own little way, bringing his favorite deserts and side dishes and making a whole other bowl of home made mashed potatoes because they know he loves them that much.

- one night richie shows up with those pilsbury cookie tubes that are like pumpkins and ghosts and they stick them in the oven and stay up all night, eating cookies and sitting on the counter, stealing kisses and talking about mindless things

- they buy pumpkins from the grocery store one afternoon and decide to carve them. richie fails miserably and ends up just cutting a massive hole in the side of it, but eddie does pretty good and makes the classic jack-o-lantern face, but then richie suggests he gives it glasses, so eddie does and they laugh all the way through

- richie has the BIGGEST sweet tooth and all throughout the season he constantly has candy corn on hand and after halloween, all of the underclassmen who don’t want their candy give it to richie. 

- eddie keeps hiding richie’s candy because richie’s sugar highs are insane and sometimes dangerous 

- when the haunted houses start opening up, richie begs eddie to go with him and, of course, eddie gives in. afterwards, eddie keeps slapping richie and smacking him with things and shoving him because he was so scared. richie jokes around and says, “Awe, does wittle baby kaspbwak need his wichie tozer to stay the night to fight of monsters?” and eddie, with a dead serious face, says, “Yes.” So richie spends the night at eddie’s.

- sometimes when they have study dates, richie picks up cocoa and muffins before coming over. when he gets there and eddie opens the door and sees richie holding the items he gets the biggest smile on his face and richie gets massive heart eyes.

stenbrough one of these coming later today!

crystal-fridge  asked:

If you're still doing Voltron fics, could you do one with a Winged AU where Lance hides his wings because they're different, pretty, but different, and when something goes wrong on a mission he uses them to save everyone with some really cool unique power he has? I mean, if you want to. I really love your work and wanted to know.

This took me like three days to do because I couldn’t stop colouring wings for them. Anyways, I hope you guys like this.


Lance watched his teammate’s fly around the nest he was laying in. They set up the nest in the hanger’s rafters so they could easily go up there after missions and still have plenty of room to fly around when they were traveling through space. He found it funny; when he first met each of them in the Garrison he was puzzled by their wings but now that they were in space, it all made sense. Shiro soared above him, his black and white speckled wings stretched out to either side of him. Unlike usual, he looked completely relaxed as the air blew through his fringe.

He dodged neatly to the side when Keith shot up from underneath him, trying to knock him off course. They laughed and circled each other in mock fight formation. The red, yellow, and orange wing beat wildly trying to make up for the sheer size that Shiro’s wings had over his own. He laid his head on his arms to look over the side of the nest when they fell into a nosedive towards the floor.

Hunk and Pidge both shriek and dove out of the way, Hunk’s chocolate brown and golden wing instinctually covered Pidge even though they were already standing on the ground. She huffed and pushed the limb off as Hunk gave sheepish apologies. She only gave him a fond grin but looked up at Shiro and Keith with an annoyed glare, which they didn’t notice as they were still chasing each other around the hanger. Her emerald green wings snapped up and she gave chase, surprising the two at her speed. Hunk laughed and gave a powerful beat and was gliding alongside the others. Lance looked on with a smile, he loved seeing his friends fly. They were able to forget about where they were and what they were meant to do and just became kids again.

‘Maybe it’s time to tell them the truth,’ Lance thought with a small frown. It had been months since they came to the Castle and they had undoubtedly bonded as not only a team but closer to a family. He heard the sound of soft flapping and looked behind him to see his team with ruffled feathers and carefree smiles on their faces.

‘No time like the present, I guess,’ he turned to them with a smile.

“How come you didn’t join us?” Shiro asked curiously trying to stroke his feathers into place. Lance looked down with a nervous gulp and started wringing his hands together.

“I was actually thinking of that right now,” he said. Looking up he saw that he had every paladin’s attention. He pressed his hands together to try and stop them from trembling.

“What is it?” Hunk asked. His forehead was creased in worry as he looked at his best friend. Not even he had seen Lance’s wings and he had known him the longest out of everyone. Not by much, they met the first year of the Garrison but still.

“I-um,” he mumbled trying to work up the courage. It wasn’t supposed to be this hard, he trusted them and he wanted them to know.

“It’s okay Lance, we’ll understand,” Shiro said encouragingly with a small grin on his face.

“I- I’m wingless,” he finally blurted out.

‘Shit,’ he thought. He cautiously looked up at his teammates and almost cringed at the pity that was plan on their faces. They all rushed forward, engulfing him in a hug and began chirping and cooing at him in comfort. He sighed into the group and after a while ducked down out of it. Although being wingless wasn’t uncommon, they still felt guilty that they had been flying around carelessly while he was grounded.

“Lance… I am so sorry,” Shiro said after a moment of silence. The others nodded in agreement looking heartbroken at Lance. He gave them a single shrug and slightly turned away from them.

“It’s alright I guess, I’ve lived with it my entire life,” he stated softly. He walked to the edge of the nest and made to get out.

“Where are you going?” Keith asked. Lance turned to them and gestured to the door at ground floor.

“I’m pretty beat, I’m going to crash for the night,” he replied with a shrug.

“You could sleep up here,” Pidge suggested looking at the rest of the team. They nodded and looked at Lance with hope. He bit his lip and looked away.

“I would but I, uh, have to shower and do a face mask and stuff still,” Lance replied shooting finger guns at them to their disappointment. He felt guilty as their wings drooped slightly.

“Maybe if I’m not too tired I’ll come back after I’m done,” he sighed. They immediately perked up again with a smile. He headed for the ladder attached to the beam and shrieked in surprise when arms lifted him up and began descending to the ground. He glanced up and saw Shiro grinning down at him. He gently placed him on the ground and ruffled his hair.

“I hope I see you later,” he said before taking off again back up to the nest. He nodded even though he knew that Shiro couldn’t see him and trudged out of the hanger.


“What the hell is wrong with me?” Lance growled at himself as he turned the water in the shower on. He paced in front of the mirror and wrung his hands together in agitation.

“Wingless?! Really?” He groaned dragging his hands down his face. He faced the shower and grasped the hem of his shirt and carefully peeled it over his head. He carefully unwrapped the bandages wrapped around his torso and let the cloth slide down his feathers. He sighed and ran his fingers through the dull blue feathers and looked in the mirror. He winced as the ache in his joints when he lifted and flexed the four wings on his back.

Not two.

Four.

As far as he knew he was only the third person to ever have four wings. The first he came to find, told the world of his condition believing himself to be descended from a god. Ultimately he was captured by the government and experimented on to find out more about his mutation. The second was a newborn girl who was taken away from her mother the minute she was born.

She didn’t make it to her second birthday.

The government dubbed anyone with four wings as a rowan.They found that that the wings were far more durable than normal wings almost as strong as a military grade armour. When they seemed threatened they turned into sharp and hardened like steel, it rendered them incapable of flight but the feathers were razor sharp. This is what made the government so wary of rowans. That and the fact that the first subject immediately attacked them after he transformed his wings this way. However, it was after months and months of merciless experimentation.

Lance was lucky and blessed to have been born to a very large and loyal family. He had his mother and registered midwife of an Aunt to thank for being born in the family home instead of in the hospital. He was registered as being wingless from the moment he was born and grew up being carefully monitored and maintained his whole life. Not that he minded much, he knew the danger he could potentially face if he was ever found out.

They couldn’t keep him locked away for long and relented when he decided to apply to the Garrison. Thanks to his distantly related Uncle who worked as a medical examiner he was able to get in and confirmed as wingless. He may have been lying to the government but hey, they lie all the time and no one gives them shit about it.

He knew that he could potentially be in a lot of danger for doing this but it felt like something that he needed to do. Maybe one day, he would become a famous explorer and he could become an advocator for rowans, just like him. That is if there were people like him on Earth. He looked mournfully at his tangled and muted feathers and wanted nothing more to soar through the air with his new family but he wasn’t sure what they would do. They were all still members of the military and were constantly briefed on what to do if they ever encountered a rowan in the field. He missed feeling the wind in his feathers though, he hadn’t had the chance to fly since he joined the Garrison.

He sighed and climbed into the shower letting the warm water wash away his thoughts. He couldn’t exactly go back to the nest tonight and tell everyone that he wasn’t wingless but actually a rowan. It would be too much for them to process. He would just have to wait a little bit longer until he knew for sure what they thought of him. He smiled at his plan and decided that it was the best course of action for now. If only to make himself feel more comfortable with the situation. After a half hour, he got out of the shower and attempted to dry off. He shook his feathers slightly trying to rid them of water but stopped when they started to sting from overuse. He sighed and locked his door in case anyone tried to get him in the middle of the night, he would have to leave them uncovered to dry properly and wrap them again in the morning. He carefully laid on his stomach and propped his head up to look at the door. Deep down he wished one of his teammates would come and ask if he was going to join them but he knew that they would be busy enough grooming each other’s wings to worry about him.


Usually recon missions went very well for them, all things considered. When your bones were light enough to step without making noises and were able to quickly fly out of a galran’s visual range, it was quite hard to detect them. Because of this they usually didn’t have a contingency plan prepared if something went awry.

“We’re pinned, Shiro!” Keith yelled into the coms. The sound of Keith’s bayard slicing and shots from Hunk’s cannon were loud in the background.

“Everyone head to Hunk and Keith’s location if you’re able,” Shiro commanded.

“Roger,” Lance said in response, he turned from his own defeated sentries and headed towards their position. They were lucky that this particular outpost was occupied only by sentries and drones as it had been abandoned by the Galra a long time ago.

“I’m close guys,” he heard Pidge say. Looking at the schematics of the base, he could see that Shiro made it to them and Pidge was heading down the corridor to join them, making Lance the furthest away. He sighed when he noticed that they had been corralled in what looked to be a sealed storage hanger and the only exit was the way they went in. He gritted his teeth and leaned forward into a full sprint determined to help his teammates. He could hear their laboured breathing and pain grunts as they took hits from the sentries.

“There’s too many of them!” Pidge yelled out in panic. He darted around the corner clutching his bayard tightly in his hands. The minutes felt like hours as he rushed through the halls, the sound of his teams panicked yells and shouts of pain. He froze when he saw the state that his team was fighting in. It almost felt like he was watching the scene in slow motion. Pidge’s foot being grabbed as she tried in vain to fly away and being slammed into the ground. Hunk trying desperately to shoot away the sentries but being tackled mid shot. Keith swinging his sword wildly and the look of surprise when he was punched in the jaw; and Shiro, oh Shiro. He was already on the ground and was absolutely covered in them, he swung his arm taking out sentries left and right but he was still trying to drag himself over to protect the others.

It only took a split second for Lance to take all of it in and begin storming towards the opening. Without thought, he banished his bayard away from him and began running towards the entrance. There must have been almost one hundred sentries activated, maybe more but he wasn’t about to falter.

“Lance! Run!” Shiro shouted when he noticed the paladin coming closer to the battle. At his voice, the sentries turned their attention to the newly arriving human. The marks on their body gave an ominous red glow as they began running at Lance. The others began struggling anew, wanting desperately to help their friend. The one they thought would be more helpless than them because he was wingless.

“Lance!” They screamed out in terror for him. Their eyes widened in shock when the back of his armour shattered and metallic looking wings burst out. He twisted around with the wings pushed out. They sliced clean through the first line of robots. They watched in shocked awe as Lance twirled around with his wings spread, destroying sentries in a deathly dance. As the last one fell he faced away from them, his wings lifted.

“Rowan,” Pidge breathed out in shock. The wings dropped in realization and Lance looked over his shoulder at them.

“I’m sorry,” is all he said before he ran away from them. They leapt up ready to follow close behind him but Shiro held out his hand for them to stop. They looked at him in confusion.

“We need to give him a little time, just enough for him to settle,” he said. They reluctantly agreed and walked out of the hanger.


After exiting their lions, they decided that they had to look for Lance. It wasn’t that difficult since they found his abandoned chest plate near the rafter ladder. They landed in the nest and saw Lance huddled in a ball at the other side of the nest. Without the metallic sheen on Lance’s feathers, they could see how lifeless and messy the wings really were.

Without a word, they all cuddled up against Lance. Shiro and Hunk on each side and Keith and Pidge in front of him. They didn’t need to say anything to him, and they didn’t need his explanation. They already understood why he was afraid to tell them. They could feel Lance begin to tremble between them and start to let out small sobs between breaths. Hunk gave a small smile and cradled Lance’s head against his shoulder. After an hour of silent comforting, Shiro laid a hand on Lance’s wing and carefully folded it out over his lap. Lance abandoned Hunk’s shoulder to look at him in confusion. Shiro grinned at him and began brushing his hand through his feathers, gently untangling them.

“You don’t have to Shiro,” Lance mumbled.

“I want to Lance,” He replied grabbing Lance’s cheek in his palm. “Let me do this for you,”

“I want to too,” Hunk said excited and carefully draped his other top wing onto his lap. Lance’s head whipped to Hunk’s side again in shock.

“No arguments either,” he said when he saw Lance begin to open his mouth. He gave Hunk a pout but obeyed.

“Me too,” Pidge grinned reaching for his lower wings. He didn’t even try to put up a fight this time, even when Keith mumbled something and got to work on the last one.

“Thank you,” he said gratefully. He rested his chin on his folded arms as he leaned on the edge of the nest. He wasn’t sure if he could look at any of them without bursting into tears, so he looked down at where he could see Blue instead.

“Maybe after this, we can go flying?” Pidge suggested. The rest of the paladins nodded their heads but this time they all turned to Lance as well. At their silence, he turned just enough to see them.

“Um, I haven’t exactly flown since I joined the Garrison,” he stated sheepishly.

“Well, then it’s about time you stretched your wings then isn’t it?” Hunk smiled.

“I guess it is,” he smiled back after a moment’s hesitation. Everyone gave a small cheer and got back to their jobs. Just as careful as before but now with a sense of urgency. Lance beamed down at Blue, feeling absolute love for and from the people around him. He couldn’t be any more lucky and blessed than he was right now.

Trust Issues

A/N: this is angsty (i think???) anyways, hope you enjoy it!

Requested: @dunkkirkk-ish

Feedback is always greatly appreciated :) x

2793 words.

Originally posted by inkedcross

Trust.

Funny word, don’t you think? The firm belief in the reliability, truth, ability, or strengths of someone or something.

One would still think that after months of being in a relationship with a respected and loving other, trust would’ve been conquered by now.

Unfortunately, not for them. Not for Harry.

Harry’s been in a relationship with Y/N for 9 months and a half now and to say they had grown pretty close to each other was really something else.

He adored spending his time with her, going out for dinner, waking up to her sleepy figure every day he was home, going out for a walk, or even just sitting or lying in comfortable silence with her. He absolutely loved sleeping cuddled up to her body when she’d stay the night and wake up to delicate kisses on his nose, and being greeted with a big and happy smile once he opened his eyes.

He was wholeheartedly and undoubtedly smitten with Y/N. He tells himself everyday that he has never met anyone like her — and he’s so sure of it. Harry has never admired anyone more than he does her. He’s never felt such intense feeling of respect and sincerity. So why can’t he trust her? He knows that from his past experiences in relationships or with his “friends” in general, the word ‘trust’ was empty to its meaning, for the people he actually trusted and put faith in, broke every promise made and took back every word once given to him. Of course not all of them were like that, but they were just the right amount to make him change his point of view on certain aspects of life.

After so many years of mistrust and back-stabbing from those who were supposed to love him and be there for him through every step of the way, Harry has unintentionally grown suspicious and doubtful to every situation and person he met. He didn’t mean to but who could blame him? He had gotten hurt so many times, he felt as though he had to do something about it, and, (un)fortunately — he really doesn’t know — he had. He’s changed. No, not to the degree no one would recognize him anymore. No. But his brain and his heart chose to keep a safe distant from the people that came into his life, so if they were to hurt him, it wouldn’t hurt as bad. Or at least, that’s what he thought.

To Harry’s dismay, Y/N wasn’t oblivious to any of it. She was catching up onto how Harry would always shut her out when he was upset, or how there were times he’d spend days off the radar without telling her anything that’d explain his absence.

Although Harry’s a smart kid, and rationally speaking he knows Y/N is too kind for the world to purposely harm him or anyone else, he just can’t bring his heart around it. His brain knows he can trust her. After all, she’s been nothing but reliable, good and kind to him. She never gave him any reasons to doubt her. However, his heart had been broken and deceived one too many times. He couldn’t possibly force himself to trust somebody. That’s not how things work and he knows it.

Y/N was becoming aware that Harry did not, by any means, trust her. At all. And it hurt a whole damn lot to know that the person you trust most doesn’t trust you back.

And she really did. Trusting him was as easy as the blink of an eye for her. Harry has always been kind and considerate towards her feelings, always respecting them. He never invalidated any of her emotions. Y/N was so delicate and precious to his eyes, he feared breaking her trust with every fiber in his body. He was well aware of the importance trust has and he also knew how much it meant to give someone else your trust.

Although she adores him dearly, she absolutely and utterly hates how he never shares his true self with her. Not that she thinks he’s fake, not at all. She knows he’s one of the most genuine person to ever set foot on earth. Metaphorically speaking, to her, he’s a big, vast ocean, in which both of them are floating in the surface of the water, instead of diving in and submerging in his true colors and seeing all the beautiful and the not-so-beautiful things too. And the best part? She wants to get to know exactly who he is deep inside. Harry has always fascinated and intrigued her in such way that not even she can explain it. She wants to get to know exactly how his heart looks like and know who hurt him this bad he refused to let you see him; through him. But Harry neglects her of every sort of emotional contact that goes deeper than his liking towards her, any form of contact with anything that’s within his heart deep down, whether they’re his insecurities, fears or even his sadness. Hell, she knows he’s not perfect —nobody is— and not for a second that’s what she expects from him.

Truth be told, not even Harry himself liked those deep and dark parts of himself, so why should he let anyone see it? It just didn’t make any sense to him. specially when so many people in his past have took advantage of his vulnerability and most fragile parts.

Sure he prophecies words of adoration to her, embraces her in loving hugs, kisses her oh so tenderly, to all which both of them enjoy very much. But that’s pretty much it. As much as he wish he did, Harry doesn’t trust her. He can’t. He really wishes he could because he knows she’s it for him, but he just can’t. He doesn’t wanna be let down and hurt again due to giving people his trust way too easily. And at this point, it’s not even something he voluntarily does, it’s just his new reality. He doesn’t mean to shut her out but he does. On the other hand, he knows Y/N would never even dream of doing anything like that on purpose to him. Frustration doesn’t even begin to describe how he feels about this whole situation, so he rather simply avoid facing it at all.

Only if he knew beforehand that this was definitely not the way to deal with this.

-

Y/N has caught up on to the fact that Harry has been in one of ‘those days’ again. Sometimes he’d stay at his flat the whole time, or even leave, heading somewhere else and be radio silent for a while, until he returned home.

It’s safe to say she was never one up for confrontation. Those types of things scared her to the point she’d feel the need to throw up or even open a hole on the ground and hide in there forever. But she knew she couldn’t do that. At least not when the matter of the subject was Harry and all of his ‘shutting her out’ behavior. Y/N wanted things to change but how? Could she even do it? She’s well aware she can’t go around changing people and their demeanor, but that’s not what she wanted to do either. She just wants Harry to open up to her and let her in, just like she had let him.

Y/N also knew she couldn’t just shoot questions at him either, since they’d only make him more anxious and possibly more closed off, if that was even possible. So she chose the best way—her best way, at least. She’d try to do it slowly and on his pace too, trying to coax small bits and bits out of him every chance she got, with the intention of showing him he could, in fact, trust her.

She didn’t want him to feel pressured or uncomfortable. But, she wonders what went wrong.

-

Y/N had driven to his house a couple hours ago and got herself in with the spare key Harry gave her a couple months ago.

Thinking about it now, she thinks it’s funny how he trusts her with his home, but not with her with her home — his heart. She’d rather Harry trust her with something as big and important as his feelings and emotions than with his spare key. Of course she’s also thankful for the key. She likes how it makes her feel closer to him; however, just not as close as she wished to be.

After what felt like hours, she finally heard his car being pulled up to the driveway and immediately paused the episode of The 100 she was currently watching.

Harry entered his house as quiet as ever, looking down and with slumped shoulders. Y/N’s heart immediately squeezed at the sight before her: her sweet love was upset, sad or even hurt and she couldn’t do a single thing about it.

She let out a “hi, H,” followed by quick strides in order to reach him. Once she was just a few inches away from him, Y/N embraces him in a tight hug and, to which he gladly complied to. He might not trust her with his feelings yet, but knowing she was there for him made him feel a whole lot better; even if she couldn’t see it. Her company, overall, was just very pleasing to him.

Harry often finds himself distracted from his own feelings whenever she was around. It’s not like it was her fault, just as it wasn’t his either. He thinks that’s the mechanism his brain has created so he doesn’t have to deal with his painful reality when times get hard for him. He knows that’s not the healthiest option nor that’s what he should and must do. Harry knows he should at least try to bring himself out of his distracted state and face his real feelings, his real demons. The only way he’ll get through this is by coming face to face with them—all of them. One can only run from their own selves for so long. He’s been bottling up his feelings all to himself, and only he knows how bad that is for him. Harry thinks that the perfect metaphor to explain himself is a balloon, in which each blow of air symbolized one of his darkest feelings he did not want to face. They’d keep filling the balloon until it exploded. And trust me, it got bad, really bad when he exploded like that.

“So, how was your day, handsome?”, Y/N asked sweetly, hoping he’d give her more of an answer then a simple “good” or “the usual”. Of course that’s exactly what she got. Usually, she would’ve stopped right there, but not today. Not when she knows fully and damn well he’s hurting and all she wants to do is help him and show him he can trust her with every fiber of his body. So she pressed, hesitantly, “H,” she waited for his attention to fully turn to her. “Can we talk?”

“Sure, love. What about?”, he asked sweetly.

“Um… It’s just- I’ve just been thinking that- um… well-“, she let out a nervous chuckle. She really did not know how to phrase it to him. “You don’t seem fine these past few days, and I just really wanted to help you, but I don’t really know how I’d do that…”, Y/N’s hands were sweaty and her arms were laying limply down her sides. “So I was wondering, maybe we could talk about whatever has been on your mind?? You’ve been quite upset lately, I can tell”.

Harry immediately tensed at her words. She wanted to talk to him. About his feelings. Nope. No. That just couldn’t be happening. Not now, not when he was doing a pretty good job at avoiding it.

“Love,” he started with a deep sigh, “there’s nothing to talk about. Promise”, he finished, hoping this conversation would drop there. And it surprisingly did. She didn’t push it any farther. Instead, Y/N took his hand with a slight nod of her head and lead Harry to their bedroom together, so they could call it a night.

She didn’t want to drop it but she was afraid of how he’d react if she pushed it. She wanted to give him time but she couldn’t bare to see him upset like that. She just couldn’t.

-

Harry was still upset and Y/N insisted on asking him every night if he wanted to talk to her, as well as wondering if he was okay, in hopes that he’d eventually say yes to her. At first, he was very appreciative and kind with her effort. He said thank you, soon following with a tight hug, showing her how much he treasured her endeavor. But as it became more frequent, he was getting quite annoyed, to say the least.

Why couldn’t she just stop asking him all of that? It was clear he didn’t want to talk about it, so why did she press on it? Why couldn’t she pretend he wasn’t upset just like he did? Harry wanted to appreciate her efforts again, but in all honesty, he was sick of it; sick of saying he was fine when he clearly wasn’t, sick of shutting her out. He wanted his feelings to be left alone, although he didn’t want to be alone.

Since the day she first asked him, whenever he came home to his place or hers, she’d always repeat those words and he really didn’t mean to but he was getting quite angry about it. He even began to act a bit colder and more distant from her, but not to the point it was that obvious.

It was just a day like any other, except he was upset again. Y/N’s heart slightly crushed again at the fact he might’ve been hurt or harmed and there was nothing she could do. It was a feeling that was growing quite frequent to her, but she didn’t want to get used to it. She really wanted to be there for him, but it almost felt like he didn’t want her there. She tried to ignore those thoughts, for they’d only bring her down and perhaps make her stop her efforts.

Y/N felt such tenderness and endearment for Harry. She really did. She just wanted to see him happy, smiling that big, gorgeous smile of his and she knew that wasn’t really their reality at the moment.

By this point, Y/N really didn’t know if she was doing it the right way. Was she pressuring him? Did she make him feel like she was trying to force it out of him? She really hoped the answer to both of these were no. But she couldn’t know; she was desperate by now. Desperate to help him; to have his trust.

“Hi, Harry,” she greeted him with a smile once he entered her small apartment. “How was your day?”, she asked him placing a kiss on his lips.

“Okay, I guess,” he dryly replied with a shrug and walked past her, heading for the kitchen.

“So,” she starts, trying to ignore the bitter tone to his words. “You sure you’re okay?”, she asked, leaning her body against the door frame, intently watching Harry gulp down a glass of water.

Harry put his cup down and shot her a glare, “I said I’m okay”, he answered harshly, not giving her a second look as he left the kitchen and sat on the couch.

Tonight was Friday, meaning that it was their movie night. Usually, they’d watch movies all cuddled up to each other, eating take out for dinner and just enjoying each other’s company. Not today though. He sat on the far end of the couch and when she came to sit next to him, he immediately lied down, stretching out his body, so that the space she once thought of occupying was now unavailable. She sighed at his behavior and sat as close to him as possible, right where his feet met her thighs, only to have him shrunk a little, enough to make his touch leave her skin.

And like that they stayed until half-way through the movie. At this point, the movie playing on the screen was long forgotten as she couldn’t stop thinking about how he was acting and this whole ‘trust’ situation. Before she could stop herself, Y/N felt the urge to ask him again, hoping he’d open up. Again. After all, hope is the last to die, right?

thanks for reading it! let me know if anyone wants a part 2 to this x

Part 2

Masterlist 

The Secret Book Club Part 3

Originally posted by myriam97blog

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Content/Warnings: If you squint, there’s sorta fluff? Though not with the god of mischief 😜 But more than anything there’s angst. You guys should have known that was gonna come sooner or later! Also minor spoiler for Ragnarok!

Words: 1864

Prompt: LOKI X READER WHO SHARE BOOKS AND READ TO EACHOTHER AND LOTS OF FLUFF HHH THAT WOULD BE SO CUTE PLEASE

Anon I promise we’ll get to your fluff soon, but it’s always so much fluffier when it’s built up, don’t you think? As always if you want to be added to the tag list, inbox me! 

@Mrsethedreamqueen, @Asometimestroubledmind, @undiscoveries, @ladydork, @thefallenbibliophilequote, @What-lies-within-us, @mymourningtea, @autistic-alien, @pixierox101, @whatsbetterthanfantasy, @sarcasmismysexuality, @allltheships, @mrsstarkpotter, @meunicorn, @weasley-parker, @constellationsolo, @graysonmalfoy, @prncesskte, @mi-draws, @trans-kid-trash, @thecaptainamerica16, @deafeninghighheels, @also-known-as-me, @riverdalerebel

Part one
Part two
Part four
Part five
Part six
Part seven (NSFW)

Keep reading

Innocent

Prompt: The Five Times the Losers Noticed Richie and Eddie’s Feelings and the One Time They Decided to Do Something About It

Suggested by: @lukemybieber

Pairings: Reddie, Implied Menverly, Implied Stenbrough

Trigger Warnings: Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Swearing, Referenced 1933 Movie, Boys Kissing, Referenced Pasta Hair, This is pretty innocent tbh basically no smut

Aged Up Characters!

All Eddie Kaspbrak had ever wanted was some peace and quiet. Unfortunately for him, he had an eternal headache and his name was Richie Tozier.

The wise-cracking, ‘your mom,’ joke-spewing, ADHD-ridden ball of child neglect, nicotine cigarettes and alcohol. He loved him more than words could describe.

He always, always kept his window unlocked should his parents get so drunk they couldn’t stand straight and ended up passing out on the kitchen table amidst a puddle of hard liquor. His father was a hostile drunk, but he was mostly away fucking some woman named Jeannie in Nova Scotia. Because of that, his mother was usually sleeping off a hangover, only to cure that hangover with either more booze or screaming profanities at the boy himself.

He’d met Richie’s dad once, didn’t look a lot like him other than the eyes and blindingly pale skin. He was internally very grateful for that fact.

What he was not grateful for was his motor-mouthed best friend obliviously telling Eddie every fact about airplanes, probably more than anyone else had ever figured out, and doing a bad imitation of the blades whirring with his mouth. In the process, he’d spit all over Eddie’s math homework, who Richie himself was supposed to be helping him with. And it’d suddenly turned into a dramtic reenactment of the end of the King Kong movies.

“So then the blonde lady is all ‘help me somebody save me!’” He screeched in a pitched voice, throwing an arm over his forehead, “And King Kong is like 'nobody can save you now! Bwahahaha!’”

Eddie narrowed his eyes and stared at the problem. What is x if y is equal to the airplane shooting at– dammit Richie.

Stan would be over to help them study as soon as he got out of the synagogue for prayer with his father, at least then he figured he may get something done.

“But then the girl is like 'bitch you THOUGHT,’ and she like totally annihilates him, but there are airplanes in the background and she doesn’t– are you even listening to me, Eds?” Richie broke off his incessant chatter to scan Eddie’s face, to which the younger boy rolled his eyes.

“Oh yeah, riveting shit, really.” Eddie scoffed sarcastically, reading over the problem for the fourth time. As he was staring at the paper, it was suddenly stolen from him by Richie.

“Math? Math is stupid, math is boring! You know what’s not boring? King Kong.” Richie laid down on his stomach to inspect the worksheet.

“You got number seven wrong. Y should be fifty-nine point three, see you forgot to carry the one.” Richie showed him his own paper and pointed out his mistake. Eddie nodded and reached for his paper, but Richie pulled it away at the last second.

“Ah- ah- ah. No more math until I finish my story.” Eddie reached up, but Richie was both faster and taller. He rolled over and laid on his back, the paper underneath him.

“You jackass! Give it back!” Eddie’s brilliant solution to the problem was to throw his legs over Richie’s stomach and try to reach behind him for the worksheet. Richie’s only goal seemed to be keeping the paper beneath him, shoving Eddie father and farther back until he was straddling his crotch. They were both so caught up in tickling each other and laughing, they didn’t notice the door swing open and Stan’s shocked face holding an Algebra textbook tucked under one arm, his bird naming book under the other, and a box of pizza in both of his hands.

He cleared his throat loudly, and it was at that moment that both boys realized the position they were in. They slinked away from each other, red-faced and embarrassed, but Stanley never said a word. He simply set the pizza box on the bed, opened his math book and never said another word about it.

That was, of course, the last week of freshman year.

And they managed to stay away from another situation like that until the spring of sophomore year in high school.

Right up until mid-July, at a 50’s style diner towards the outskirts of Derry, which they’d basically all adopted as another hangout spot.

“She is a snake! She is a liar, a scumbag, a piece of shit, the lowest of the low-”

“All because she gave you a B- on your writing quiz, because your handwriting is illegible. Seriously! Even I can’t read it sometimes, Trashmouth!” Eddie groaned, sipping his vanilla milkshake while Richie ranted to him about their writing teacher.

“Well if she wanted a legible report on the Vietnam War she should have asked us to use a typewriter! Ah say, ah say, it’s bullshit, good sir!” Richie faked a British accent, which Eddis had to admit was getting at least a little bit better.

“Do you even own a typewriter?” Eddie questioned, though he was only slightly annoyed and wished Mike would just hurry up and get there with Richie’s latest X-men comic that he’d borrowed, because it was basically the most important thing in Richie’s life at the moment.

“Big Bill does! He doesn’t let me use it though, because last time I typed 'Henry Bowers is a shit-spitting sissy boy,’ and was gonna make copies to hang all over school. He didn’t think it was the best idea, but I think it would have been fucking hilarious. Can you picture the look on his face, Eds?” Richie was always coming up with ridiculous and random ideas that were normally completely half-thought out and he had no real intentions to follow through with them.

Eddie scoffed and his eyes flicked to the door yet again. Mike still had five minutes, they knew he wouldn’t be late. Mike Hanlon was never late.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to hang out with Richie, he obviously did. But ever since the end of middle school, something seemed to have shifted between them, like the balance of the universe was… off. For starters, he realized he thought about Richie the way Ben talked about Beverly, or Beverly talked about both Mike and Ben. He could tell that ever since she and Bill had decided to stop their childish crush before it became serious, that yes, they still respected each other, but Beverly seemed to be in a constant battle between Mike and Ben. It was a little weird, but not as weird as the way only one person came to his mind when Ben recited his newest poem about love, about how when you think about the person, your heart seems to flutter, how you feel like you could spend forever with them, and it still wouldn’t feel like long enough.

But he realized that boys weren’t supposed to feel that way about other boys, and his mom would go apeshit if he told her.

He smiled and moved over to sit on Richie’s lap, which took him by surprise, but he was not unopposed to. Eddie sat on Richie’s lap all the time at the Barrens, whenever he was afraid of his allergies acting up or he just wanted to be closer to the boy.

He leaned with his back towards the wall, one arm resting across his shoulders, one in his lap. Neither of them talked. It was a comfortable position for both of them and neither wanted to break the comfortable silence radiating throughout the air.

Not many other people hung out in the diner, that was what made it so special. It was like their very own little hideout, a secret kept from the rest of the world, except the regulars, of course.

They heard the little bell on the top of the door ring and he scrambled off Richie’s lap, but not before Mike saw. He pretended like he didn’t, though, so he was looking up when they saw him.

He faked seeing them and put on a bright smile, waving to them and holding the comic to his chest, watching as Richie’s face lit up. Stan had told him about something like that at the end of freshman year, where they were just comfortably… on each other, like it was the most casual thing in the world. At first, Mike had just assumed they were affectionate friends, but during the meal, he could see the two boys flicking anxious glances between one another and he realized there could be more to the story.

And again, they never spoke of it, because talking about it would make it real, and what was there to make?

Eddie was merely sixteen when he needed to get his wisdom teeth removed. It was both an emergency surgery and an important moment in his life, so naturally, he called on his three best friends to make sure he was okay after the surgery.

Bill Denbrough, who had been his best friend since childhood, taught him how to ride a bike and never made fun of him or his illnesses, Stanley Uris, who always knew what to do with the rather frequent anxiety attacks he had, and of course, Richie Tozier, because Richie was the most loveable damned idiot in the world, and there would never be a scenario where he was not there. He wanted to bring the other losers, but the doctor said any more than three people was too much.

The surgery went well, despite his anxiety over it. It only became a problem when he was wheeled into the patient room in a wheelchair, giggling like a madman with cotton in his mouth.

“He’s high!” Richie squealed with genuine joy in his tone.

“Stanley!” Eddie suddenly screamed, eyes fixed on the tall, Jewish boy. He smiled goofily, his eyes unfocused.

“Stan… Stanley, c'mere.” He motioned for him to come closer. Stan looked between Richie and Bill, who shrugged.

He bent down near Eddie’s wheelchair and smiled softly.

“Hi, E-”

“You have pasta on your head!” He reached out to grab Stan’s hair, but a now-frowning Jewish boy bat his hand away.

“Fuck you, Eddie,” Stan grumbled, looking away. He began giggling again.

“Where’s Bill? I love Bill!” Eddie’s eyes peeled curiously around the sterile waiting room.

“I’m ruh- right here,” Bill spoke up, leaning down onto his knees and the side of the wheelchair. Eddie reached a limp hand onto his face.

“I love you, Bill. You’re my best friend! If anybody asks I’ll say… I like my best friend Bill… but-” His eyebrows furrowed in thought, “But I love my best friend Richie.”

“Aw, Eds. I always knew you loved me!” Richie came up from behind Bill and sat on the other side of Eddie’s wheelchair.

He removed his hands from Bill’s face and brought them softly to Richie’s.

“Mm- hmm…” He hummed softly, dreamily. His fingers combed through Richie’s untamed curls, thumbs finding themselves underneath his glasses.

“I like your face… I like your eyes, and your hair… and glasses. But… I also like your jokes. Sometimes they’re funny…” Eddie whispered, his fingers brushing against Richie’s lips. His eyes were transfixed on them, the pink, chapped, peeling mess they were.

“You think my jokes are funny, Eds?” Richie’s voice came out awkwardly pitched, and neither of them noticed Bill watching the exchange intently. He almost felt like he was interrupting a private moment between them.

“Yeah… sometimes. I don’t like the ones about my mom, though. That’s gross.” Richie grinned, then Stan came in the room and they helped Eddie out of his chair and to the car.

He was heavy and he wasn’t walking right, so they had to balance him between them, Bill unlocking the car while Richie and Stan walked on either side of him with his arms pulled around their shoulders.

When they got in the car, Bill was driving, Stan in the passenger’s seat, and Eddie asleep against Richie’s shoulder in the back.

Bill had never seen them act so quiet and… intimate towards each other before. It was strange, but if it made them happy, Bill was unopposed.

During the summer of Junior year, everything became too much for Beverly again. She ran as fast as she could, feet slamming against the pavement, to get to Richie’s house. She just needed to see him.

She swung her leg over the tree branch close to his window and leapt off onto the roof, knocking quickly on the glass with her fist.

The light was on, so she was sure he’d be home, and there was a soft murmering on his side. She saw a shift in light as he drew back the curtains, and the second he saw her bruised eye and busted lip, he pulled her into a hug.

“Oh, Beverly…” He sighed, with pity in his tone. When it was quiet, she could hear a soft sobbing and feel another presence in the room. She turned her head slowly to the side to see Eddie, with red-rimmed eyes and tear tracks running down his face.

“Eh- Eddie?” She choked out, peering through misty eyes at him. She heard Richie heave a rattling sigh.

“Yeah, I have two of you tonight. We can watch a movie if you want, but please clean off your lip first, I can get you some ice from the fridge.” She nodded quickly, because if Eddie wouldn’t ask questions, neither would she.

She went to the bathroom and splashed some water on her face, hoping that she’d feel better. When she went back to the room, Richie had pulled Eddie onto his chest and the shorter boy had nuzzled his head right underneath his chin. He was silently crying about something, mumbling 'It was bullshit, Rich, it was all bullshit. She lied to me, she lied.’

Richie was comforting him with soft assurances whispered into his hair and his hand rubbing soft circles in Eddie’s back. She sat on the bed next to them, a feeling settling in her stomach. They turned on a movie– Ferris Bueller’s Day Off– and Eddie fell asleep against Richie almost instantly. He’d wrapped his arm around her shoulders and then she didn’t feel so alone.

She was woken up when Eddie woke up, not because he was crying so much as just to push himself off of Trashmouth and go back to sleep pretending nothing ever happened.

They were eighteen when Ben finally saw them as well, except it wasn’t as innocent as the other times, in fact quite the opposite.

They’d all been planning to meet at Mike’s house for movie night before they all had to leave for college. It would have been alright, had Mike not left them to their own devices with the TV. Of course they would argue about what show they’d watch and neither would settle.

Ben was just walking into the house, not trying to be scarred by the image of one of his best friend’s heads pressed against the other’s crotch, but his wish would not be granted, as when he turned into the living room, that was basically the position they were in.

They said it’d happened on accident and both of them turned bright red when Ben noticed. He never got a clear explanation of what happened, both boys seemed to completely deny it, making up some excuse about a remote or something like that.

He had absolutely no idea how that was a viable excuse, but he’d learned from his friends it was best not to talk about the tension between them.

Richie tried to play it off with a cheap dick joke and Eddie beeped him and hit him upside the head.

“So Ben… how’s it going with… Beverly?” Eddie attempted to distract. Ben blushed and shook his head, because he didn’t want to think about the time he, Mike, and Beverly had hung out together and he’d not-so-accidentally kissed both of them.

Soon enough, Mike came into the room with Star Wars on VHS and they all settled when Bill entered the house. He always did have a calming prescence.

They’d all sprawled out across each other, Beverly in between Mike and Ben on the couch, Stan leaning his head on Bill’s shoulder, Richie with his head on Eddie’s lap. And Ben couldn’t forget how their faces were red as cherry tomatoes and they both kept flicking anxious glances over to him.

It wasn’t like they cared much, nobody really did, but it was still a compromising position.

It was finally college, the last night the Losers would be spending together, all together at least, until they left Derry and by extension, each other. It wasn’t all bad, Bill, Stan, and Mike managed to get accepted into the same college, which was only fourty miles away from Beverly’s and fifty away from Ben’s. Richie and Eddie had also managed to get into the ssme college, but it was a whole different state away from the other’s.

They’d all decided to get drunk and play seven minutes in heaven in Ben’s closet. All night, Eddie had noticed the Losers were acting sort of strange, all except Richie. He tried to tell himself it was just because they were drunk or upset because of college. He didn’t either of those excuses.

The way they played the game, it was sort of a mix between spin the bottle and seven minutes in heaven.

Whoever the bottle landed on was who you had to go into the closet with. Eddie had at first landed on a drunken Bill, who spent their whole seven minutes gushing about Stan’s face.

A few other turns passed, and then it was Richie’s turn. And he landed on Eddie. Eddie held his breath as Richie guided them into the closet and slammed the door shut.

They both just stared at each other for a few soul-crushing minutes. And then Richie spoke up.

“Well come on, Eds. It’s seven minutes in heaven. I thought you’d be all over this.” Richie gestured obscenely. Eddie rolled his eyes.

“Beep beep, Trashmouth.” But it wasn’t said with the usual annoyance, because suddenly Richie was coming towards him, and he intertwined their fingers together, slowly pushing Eddie towards the wall.

Eddie’s heart was racing so fast he was sure Richie could sense it.

“This is fine,” He muttered, because he did that a lot, tried to convince himself that things were alright when he was on the verge of screaming with emotion. He hadn’t meant to say it out loud, though, and Richie took it as the go-ahead to press his lips against Eddie’s.

The kiss was soft, his lips were chapped, but warm and gentle. He didn’t try to force his tongue down his throat, the way Eddie’s mother had always told him kisses were.

It was just… innocent. Everything was quiet around them, it was dark, but everything felt like it was glowing around him. Richie bit Eddie’s lips softly, their breaths becoming the only sound in the room. He picked Eddie up by his thighs and Eddie wrapped his arms around Richie, tilting his head back to deepen the kiss, because that was what they wanted.

They just kept kissing, coming up for air every once in a while, but not talking. Not ever talking. It had obviously been way longer than seven minutes and Eddie wasn’t even sure if the Losers were out there anymore. So that had been their plan, try to get them drunk and making out. It’d worked.

They didn’t want to talk about what happened, and when Richie looked, they’d been in the closet for a whole twenty minutes. None of the Losers commented on their messy hair, or the hickey on Eddie’s collarbone.

The Losers knew how to get them together better than they did.

Taglist: @toziertrashmouth @s-s-georgie @childishsoup @beep-beep-richie-trashmouth @beep-beep-gazebos @ithinkthe4thkindisabuttthing @trashmouth-reddie Bolded means I couldn’t tag you.

bin-of-gayness  asked:

Another prompt, sorry I’m sending you another one but I just thought of this, Keith listening to Lance and Allura’s Allurance moment over the comms in the new defender and getting hurt and jealous because he thinks Lance is replacing him or something??

Hey so I’m not going to do exactly this prompt, but I like the idea of Keith noticing Lance and Allura growing closer, so he starts to feel sad and insecure about potentially losing what small chance he had with Lance. So here’s that!


Keith pilots his ship into the caste’s hangar with the adrenaline of their recent fight still coursing through his veins. His uneasiness over his near-death experience has been temporarily forgotten as he prepares himself to see his friends again. He knows they’re alive, but he won’t feel calm until he can see them with his own eyes. Touch them. Hear their voices without the aid of communicators.

Keith fumbles with his seat belt before he launches himself out of the ship and into the castle’s halls. He still remembers its complicated layout like he was here yesterday. His heavy footfalls clang against the metal floor. 

He reaches the armoury at the same time as the other paladins. Shirt has ripped and is almost back in his civvies. Hunk is giving Pidge a congratulatory pat on the shoulder.

“Hey…”

But Keith is cut off by the sounds of whooping echoing through the halls. Allura jogs into the room and Lance sprints in from the other side.

“Allura!” He calls. Even underneath his helmet his brilliant smile is visible. Allura laughs and prepares herself.

Lance whips her up into his arms, spinning her around and laughing. She clings tightly to his neck and kicks out her feet.

“You did so well!” Lance slows down and starts to slowly set Allura’s feet on the ground. He continue to hold onto her waist as she removes her helmet. A few strands of hair have been loosened from her bun, but she otherwise looks perfect.

“I knew you could do it! Didn’t I say? Aren’t I always right?” Lance moves his hands to Alura’s shoulders and shakes her good naturedly. Allura laughs and reaches out remove Lance’s helmet for him. 

“Well I couldn’t have done it without you.” She smiles. Lance flushes.

“Aw nah, that was all you I promise.” He nervously rubs behind his neck.

“Even so, Lance…” Allura steps closer and passes him his helmet. Their fingers touch when Lance takes it.

“Thank you.” Allura says seriously. “For believing in me.”

Lance blinks. He’s surprised at the Princess’ gratitude, and isn’t sure how to respond. His open mouth quickly slips into an easy smile. 

“You’re amazing, Allura. I’ll never doubt you for a second.” His voice is low and intimate.

Allura’s cheeks grow dark. She forces Lance’s helmet into his grip and quickly lets go. 

“R…right well uh…” She stammers. Lance laughs and scoops her into a big hug before she can protest. Allura stiffens, then relaxes into the embrace. 

“I knew Blue chose the right person.” Lance sighs. Allura grips Lance tighter.

“My father would definitely approve of you, Lance.” She smiles and the two begin to separate. The air between them is warm.

Keith’s gut feels icy. He stares, transfixed on the spot. He can’t bring himself to emerge from the shadows.

Allura coughs. Lance casts his eyes down.

“We need to get ready…”

“Yes, the Blades of Marmara will be docking soon so…” Allura’s eyes flit sideways and she does a double take as she makes out a figure in the shadows. She jumps slightly, then relaxes when she realises who it is.

“Keith?”

The room falls silent. Everyone’s eyes move over to where Keith hangs in the dark. His hood is still up, but his face is exposed. He holds up a weak hand in a wave.

“Uh… h…hey,” He steps into the room. Lance lights up. Keith hates how it makes his stomach flutter. 

“Keith! How long…?”

“Guys, Kolivan and Captain Olia have docked. We need to meet them in the common room in five.” Shiro announces. Everyone starts to file out of the room, except for Lance. When Keith moves past, Lance reaches out and tugs him back to his side. 

“We’ll catch up in a bit.” Lance calls. Shiro nods and continues to move out.

When the room has grown quiet, Lance turns to Keith with a beaming smile.

“Hey man! How are you?”

Keith stares at him with a skeptical glare.

“You kept me behind for that?” 

C’mon, I know as soon as we walk through these doors you’re going to get swept up in blades junk and it’s gonna be all ‘Lotor this’ and ‘Knowledge or death’ that.” Lance talks animatedly with his arms. It makes Keith smile.

“I’m fine.” He sighs.

“Yeah? We appreciated your cannon work out there. Some real nice shots.” Lance punches him in the bicep. “Though of course, I think you should leave the shooting to the best shot next time, ok?” He winks. Keith rolls his eyes with a grin.

“Sure thing. Though it looked like you had your hands full.” Keith chuckles. “Wandering into that mine field and all.”

“Hey, hey I’m just an arm now!” Lance holds up his hands defensively. “And oh man! Did you see how Allura froze them all! Man it was so easy once she…”

“She’s really great.” Keith interrupts suddenly. Lance is taken aback.

He stares at Keith’s unreadable expression. He looks calculatingly calm. Like he’s intentionally trying to look blank. 

“Hey…” Lance steps forward. “You ok?”

“Fine.” Keith sighs. Lance’s eyebrows scrunch together.

“Are you… listen if you’re jealous because Allura has cooler moves than you…”

“She doesn’t have…”

“Just come back. If you wanna be a big hero again, just come back.” Lance states. Frustration taints his words. Keith shakes his head.

“That’s not it. I’m sorry. You two….” He closes his eyes and steals himself. He relaxes into a sad smile.

“You two make a good team.” He states.

The words sink in Lance’s stomach. Keith goes to move past him, but Lance’s grip is on him again. He almost loses his sense of balance as he is yanked into a crushing embrace. Lance’s breath is warm on his ear.

“Hey,” Lance speaks quietly. His grip on Keith is bruising, but Keith doesn’t pull away. Instead his nails begin to dig into the soft body suit Lance wears underneath his armour.

“I’m your right hand man. Don’t forget that.” 

Keith nods. He doesn’t dare to open his mouth out of fear of all the confessions that may come pouring out. 

Oblivious

Request: Hi I’m not sure if you’re open to take request right now. If you are can you please make a Eddie Kaspbrak for IT imagine. Can it be where Bill’s cousin who is the reader and Eddie both like each other so Bill and everyone else try’s to get the together? Please if you have the time of course thank you!

Fandom: IT (2017)

Pairing: Reader/Eddie Kaspbrak

Rating: General

Warning: strong language!


Oblivious

It was needless to say that Y/N was just as oblivious as Eddie was. Y/N had only recently moved to Derry with their mother and father so they could be somewhat closer to their family from their mothers side. Of course, Y/N thought the move was ridiculous until Bill had introduced them to the entire Losers’ club. Though Y/N wasn’t a fan of the name, the people in the club definitely didn’t seem like losers’, they stuck it out and remained quiet happy.

Y/N enjoyed the company, they always found Richie to be the funniest (when he wasn’t being insulting that was.) but always found Eddie to be their very favourite. Of course, they didn’t believe they actually like-liked Eddie. Not until Bill actually suggested it and really got Y/N thinking. It was bothersome for a few days, Y/N couldn’t concentrate on anything else besides the fact they could possibly like their friend, but of course, what Y/N didn’t know was that Eddie had just as big a crush on them — maybe even a little bigger.

Now, everyone else in the group knew it, they constantly teased Eddie when Y/N wasn’t around much to his disapproval. He tried denying it but simply gave up after a few attempts once he had realised the teasing would never stop.

”Just ask them out you twat-waffle.“ Richie would muse with a shit-eating grin on his face as he prodded at Eddie endlessly.

”And have them hate me for all eternity? I think not.“ Eddie would reply every time without fail, which would cause Richie to make the most disgusted look in the world before offering to do it for him.

Eddie had been rather distraught about the entire thing, Richie and Ben had been endlessly trying to edge him towards talking to Y/N about his feelings but Eddie resisted each time without fail.

Meanwhile, Bill and Beverly had been nudging Y/N in the right path of confessing their minor infatuation with Eddie, but Y/N was persistant. They didn’t want to rush into anything before they were certain that Eddie liked them back, they didn’t want to put anyone in an uncomfortable position and have an entire friendship ruined in a matter of seconds. That wasn’t how they planned to spend their time in Derry.

What neither Eddie nor Y/N knew was the elaborate plan created by Ben, Bev, Bill, Mike, Stan, and Richie in an attempt to hook the two up, persay. It was really quite a badly thought out plan, and if it went wrong they decided that blaming Richie was their best bet, much to Richie’s dismay. The plan had been to slip poorly made love notes into each of the pairs lockers to make it seem like they both had an equal liking for each other (which wasn’t exactly false!) and have the two finally get together and cut the ever looming tension that seemed to linger on forever.

Needless to say, their awful plan pulled through somewhat. Beverly had used her neatest hand writing to scribble out a ‘mushy’ love letter addressed from Y/N to Eddie, and Stan had used his second neatest to write out Eddies. Originally Richie wrote out the letter from Eddie, but this was scratched and used as guidelines of what not to write in the love letter.

“You can’t talk about Y/N like that! It’s a love letter not an erotic novel!“ Stan had objected, his eyebrows pulled together in a scolding fashion whilst Bill passed distasteful glances at Richie whilst he read over the original draft.

“Y-you know they’re suh-suh-still my cousin, r-right?“ Bill eventually managed, his lips pulled together in a thin line whilst Richie grinned proudly to himself from across the room.

*

Monday morning came quickly, and surprisingly enough everyone besides Eddie and Y/N arrived to school a half an hour earlier than they usually did. They had to make sure everything was perfect and that they didn’t slip the wrong letter into the wrong locker, really that would have been utterly disastrous. They slipped them both in on the count of three, fortunately Eddie and Y/N’s lockers were close by, four lockers away from each other. This definitely gave the losers’ a better view of everything that went down.

Once Y/N and Eddie arrived about fifteen minutes apart from each other, the losers’ knew what was about to go down. Y/N was the first to open their locker, the blue piece of paper fluttering onto the ground and resting there till they leaned over to pick it up, unfold it, and scan it over for the moment before glancing around in search of Eddie. Speaking of Eddie, he had opened his locker with ease, grabbing his books and ultimately failing to notice the deep purple coloured page for the moment before he picked it up and glanced over it, looking over to find Y/N.

The two held eye contact for a moment, causing Beverly to chew her tongue in anticipation. Eventually Y/N slowly closed their locker and approached Eddie, who stiffened on the spot and looked at the other with utter nervousness in his eyes.

“I got your letter.” Y/N started, gaining a very confused look from Eddie before he glanced at the others who gave him a thumbs up.

”Oh right, yes, my letter–“ He was practically lost for words, terrified that Y/N would hand him back the forged letter and ask him to keep out of range of sight from them for the rest of the year. But, he was pleasantly surprised to find that they simply smiled sweetly and nodded quietly.

“We can go to the park or something after school if you’d like?” Y/N spoke quietly, passing a glance at Beverly who gave them a thumbs up.

Eddie was almost entirely lost for words, terrified that if he spoke he would start to sound like Bill and embarrass himself already. He simply nodded, a smile crossing his face and suddenly he was conscious that he may have been nodding a little too eagerly, but his suspicious were overturned once Y/N smiled and kissed his cheek happily.

“It’s a date.” They stated with ease, turning on their heels and walking off at last, and once they were out of sight there rang a chorus of exhales and dopey smiles from every other loser. Finally, they could all sit in the same room without any unresolved romantic tension.



{I hope this is what you were looking for? I feel like it’s a bit short, I’m sorry! If it doesn’t meet your expectations I solemnly apologise.}

Silly Kitty | Seokjin

Pairing: Seokjin x reader
Genre: Hybrid!AU, fluff, if u squint there’s a tiny bit of angst
Words:
21.7k+
Warnings: this is 21.7k of pure fluff god is dead and we killed him
Notes: I started out following the request and then it just got out of hand, I couldn’t stop myself oml this fic has been haunting me for WEEKS. also i deviated a lil from the request im sorry i love u I hope it doesn’t disappoint!!!!

Request:
just lots and lots of fluff I guess?? I love Jin so much but I don’t see a lot of love for him. Oh! Maybe something along those lines?… How about… desperate hybrid jin, stuck on the streets, who starts following the first person who shows him affection and them just not knowing what to do, doesn’t know the first thing about having to take care of more than just themselves? - jin anon

Originally posted by bwiseoks


Keep reading

The third time Eleven run away was on the 23rd of May, 1985.

Mike Wheeler thought he had dealt with his father’s lack of care long time ago, but that day was just too much. Way too much.

An F on a test he really studied hard for, he really tried, but couldn’t focus enough, due to one of the panic attacks that he started having after the events of last year, and constant anxiety.

But, of course, his father didn’t know. Neither did his mom for that matter. Lately she was acting almost as distant as her husband, with the difference that she seemed weirdly joyful.

Mike knew he couldn’t just spend his life worrying, but he couldn’t help it. He was constantly worried - terrified - that one afternoon he’ll find the cabin empty. He was anxious all the time, unless he called Will and heard that he was okay. He worried about his parents marriage, that was less of a marriage with every passing day. He worried about Nancy, who was studying so hard for exams she barely slept. He worried about Holly, that she has to grow up in the atmosphere of either constant silence or constant arguments. He even worried about Steve, everytime he looked at his face when Nancy was around.

Mike Wheeler was worried about everything.

Lucas once told him that he should sometimes think about himself, but how he was supposed to stop caring? He wasn’t like his father. He cared.

And when Ted Wheeler finally decided to pay some attention to his only son and it turned out to be scolding for messing up a test, Mike had enough.

‘I get it, you are not really a sports kind of person. But can’t you just get good grades, as it seems to be the only thing you can do properly, at least it used to be?’

He wasn’t even yelling. Mike wished he would yell, just once. It would at least mean he gave a shit.

He felt like he was six again, his father bitterly disappointed that he didn’t find pleasure in kicking a ball around.

'Shouldn’t you do something other than reading your books all day?’ he heard when he was ten.

When he was eleven, the only response to his excited statement, that he and his friends won the science contest was an unfocused gaze, a nod and bored 'That’s great, son.’.

When he was thirteen, he stopped trying. When his son was thirteen, Ted Wheeler didn’t care that he woke up crying almost every night. Neither did he care that the shadows under Mike’s eyes seemed to grow with every passing day. He didn’t care enough to ask why he was mean to teachers. He didn’t bother to ask, once, if Mike was okay.

He preferred to assume he was, because that meant he didn’t have to do anything. That he didn’t have to be a father.

So now, Mike suddenly realised that he was not okay.

'OKAY, OKAY, SO WHAT IF I STUDY ALL THE TIME, GET THE BEST GRADES?! YOU WOULDN’T BE PROUD OF ME EVEN IF I MADE SCHOOL BASEBALL TEAM! YOU DON’T GIVE A SHIT! STOP PRETENDING YOU’RE MY FATHER!’

'Michael!’ no yelling. No hurt on his face. Calm, stern voice, reprimand.

And Mike wanted to hurt him, wanted to make him feel the way he felt for nearly fourteen years, but he still didn’t care.

So he fled. He quickly put on his torn sneakers and ran, slamming the door behind him.

He ran until his lungs and muscles burned. He ran, going past the town’s centre, he ran far, to the deserted alley. He wanted to scream, to punch something, he was angry, so angry…

'Hey, Wheeler! ’ he heard a menacing voice. He set his jaw, turning around to face Troy.

'What do you want?’ he growled.

'What got you so worked up, Frogface? Missing your freak of a girlfriend?’

'Shut your mouth!’

'Or what? You’re going to punch me? Maybe I would be afraid if you were trying to throw a ball five feet away from me. ’

Troy’s cronies chuckled, approaching him.

'Hey, Wheeler, I’m actually curious. How does it feel to be such a failure that even freaks run away from you?’ he grinned with disgusted expression.

Mike’s fist flew first.

***

When Mike didn’t come over as soon as the school ended, she was disappointed.

When he didn’t answer her first supercom call, she was worried.

When he didn’t answer next five, she put on her blindfold and a hooded sweatshirt she stole from him a two days ago, focusing on his scent and warmth she could almost still feel.

Then she saw him, in the void, pushed onto the wall, his lip split, that mouthbreather towering over him, she was out of the door in seconds.

***

'You really thought you could beat me up, Wheeler?’ Troy chuckled, punching him in the stomach. Mike gasped for air. 'Maybe if I put you on a wheelchair, we could call you 'Wheels’? 'Frogface’ is getting old anyway. ’

Then he kicked his leg so hard Mike saw the stars.

'LEAVE HIM, ASSHOLES! ’ a strong, loud voice yelled, and suddenly the bullies were thrown across the alley, landing few feet away. Troy, on the other hand, was pushed against the wall, both with her mind and her forearm pressed under his chin, just as Hopper taught her. She saw Mike fall to the ground, groaning. She was seeing red. Troy’s face paled when he recognised her.

'Last time not clear enough?’ she was almost scared of the tone of her own voice. There was another voice inside her head. Voice sounding a lot like Kali’s.

He hurt Mike. You need to hurt him, now. He deserves it. He dared to hurt Mike. You should make him pay. You weren’t strong enough last time, will you be now? He deserves to be punished.

'E-el, don’t… ’ Mike’s voice, tense with pain, cut trough Kali’s taunts. 'He’s not worth it… Don’t… ’

She let him go, standing, frozen, breathing heavily. Troy and other boys ran, nearly tripping over their own feet.

She stood there, unmoving, until Mike spoke up again.

'You shouldn’t… come out…’ he hissed weakly, feeling like he could pass out any second. 'Put the hood on… ’

She broke out of her reverie, launching herself towards him, kneeling on the ground.

'Mike. ’ her voice broke. She was nearly shaking.

'I’m okay… ’ his voice seemed distant.

Just like him to say that with a broken leg, swollen eye, split lip and unfocused gaze, being on egde of unconsciousness.

'Fuck, Mike, you are not okay!’

'Stop swearing… ’ he said weakly.

'Can you walk?’ she took his head in her hands, panicked.

'Uh, maybe…’ he tried to get up but quickly laid back down, feeling like a wave washed over him.

'Shit. Shit, shit, shit. ’ she got up. 'Wait here!’

And she was gone.

'Yeah, I’ll just… Stay here.’ he muttered, barely aware of his surroundings.

El ran, heading towards the police station. She could barely breathe when she reached he door and swung it open with her mind. She bursted inside.

'Hopper!’ she yelled, ignoring bewildered looks of people around her.

Jim appeared in the door of his office, his eyes wide.

'Hey, chief, what’s going on?’ one of the cops asked with confusion on his face.

'Get back to work. ’ Hopper grabbed El’s arm and steered her outside.

'Mike…’ she gasped, catching her breath 'Hurt…’

'Get in the car. ’

***

When Mike woke up, the first thing he saw was bright light and white ceiling. Then, when he looked down, a mass of curly hair on his chest.

'El..?’ he whispered hoarsely.

Her head shot up and her fingers tightened around his palm.

'You okay, kid?’ then he saw Hopper, standing behind El with his arms crossed on his wide chest. Hoppers stern face had a concerned look on it. The chief laid his heavy hand on Mike’s head, ruffling his hair.

'Yeah, I guess. ’

'He’s not. ’ El spat, suddenly scowling. 'Those dicks broke his leg. ’

'Jesus, kid, where’d you hear that?’

'You. ’ she deadpanned. 'Are you going to find them?’

'First, you gotta tell me who that was. ’

They both looked at Mike, who pressed his lips together, forgetting his lip was split and groaned.

'Mike, if you don’t tell, I’ll show him. Or I’ll find them. ’

'No, I’ll tell, I’ll tell, okay?’ Mike said quickly and the room spun around him. He closed his eyes for a moment.

'It was Troy Donovan and his group. ’

'Of course. ’ Hopper growled and furrowed his brows. 'Little shits… Your parents are on their way, kid. ’

'Great. ’ Mike muttered. 'Can you cancel it though?’

'What? Your parents?’

'My dad. ’ Mike looked at the wall behind Hoppers back as if it had done something to her. 'He probably won’t even come, though.’

The same second, Karen barged inside, Ted following her quietly.

'Mike! Oh my god, Mike, what happened?!’ Karen looked at him frantically.

'I’m okay, mom. ’

'Is it that Russian girl?’ Ted looked suspiciously at Eleven.

'Since when do you give a shit?’ Mike muttered, clutching El’s hand. 'She’s not Russian. Her name is El… I mean Jane. ’

Hopper cleared his throat.

'If you don’t mind, I think it’ll be best if we talk in my car, Karen, Ted. Doctor said he’ll be right back. Mike is in good hands. ’

'But… ’ Karen started, looking back at her son, but Hopper steered them out of the room. The door closed, and El looked back at him.

'Why are you mad at your dad?’ she furrowed her brows.

'I’ll… I’ll tell you later, okay?’ he muttered, hoping she’ll think she moisture in his eyes was an effect of the pain. 'It’s just… He’s such a…’

'Mouthbreather?’

'Yeah. Mouthbreather. ’

She sat closer to him and started running her hand trough his hair, remembering that was what Hopper did when she was sick. Mike closed his eyes, and a single tear ran down his temple.

@shattered-quill @ale-le-me @themikewheelers @maxmayfield @mxdmax @lucassinclairstan @bob-newby-superhero @alabasterswriting @wrongirish

“Shh, sleep, Keith.” Shiro murmured, pulling the blanket up over Keith’s shoulder as the man stirred. It wasn’t enough to send him back to sleep though, a head peeked out from under the covers and Keith glared at the bright light of the tablet.

“What are you doing?” He had been caught. Shiro felt arms tighten around him, fingers stroking the sensitive scarred skin, and couldn’t stop the slight smile. Of course he would get caught.

“I’m just finishing this up.” A few quick taps had the tablet beeping, the latest revision of Team Voltron’s next steps updating and predicting the safest route for them to take. Keith hummed softly, resting his head against Shiro’s chest as he watched.

“You have five minutes.” Keith grouched, squeezing Shiro’s waist but stubbornly keeping at least one eye open.  Shiro knew from previous experiences ‘five minutes’ meant five minutes, but the threat lost its edge with Keith’s tired, husky voice. He gave a quiet chuckle as he sped up the process.

“Sure thing, baby.”

Ungloved hands

Request: If it’s not too much trouble, do you think you could maybe write some smut about a girl who gets really turned on by Penny’s ungloved hands. Like, he touches her with them, and she tries to seduce him. But Pen’s *nonexistent* conscience makes him say “but you’re just a girl” (shes of age, but young/virgin) and she goes “well then make me a woman Pennywise”, and he gives in because hearing his name from her mouth breaks his will.


Requester : wants to remain anonymous

Warning: just so much smut

Yo everyone here is my first completed request! I hope this was what the requester was asking for haha it was fun to write. I’m going to do requests in bursts of 10 because that’s manageable. It will also be one request a day that I upload because it’s easier for me and it also doesn’t clog up the tags quickly. Anyway, please enjoy and if you wanna request anything in the future, dm me!

=====================================

No one knew of your…situation that included a certain killer clown that terrorised Derry. Well, more specifically his hands. You’d had an encounter with the clown a week ago as he cornered you off, trying to scare you and most likely eat you. But as his hands caressed your face, you had shoved them away, accidentally ripping the glove off his right hand. You’d had expected perhaps a disgusting, gnarly hand to be under the glove but it was in fact the opposite.

The skin was smooth and pale and there were prominent veins pushing up under the skin. They were large of course and, well, you couldn’t stop thinking about them. The problem, amongst many others, was that you hadn’t seen the clown since his failed attempt at scaring you so which to most they would be more than happy about but not you. It wasn’t as though he was the prettiest thing in the world, no, he was more the opposite.

You couldn’t miss the giant forehead and strange orange hair. His eyes were very piercing and it was creepy that the left one always seemed to be looking in the opposite direction that the right one was. He had two abnormally large bucked teeth that was slightly yellowed like corn and his white face makeup was crackly. And his brow… you’d never seen anyone furrow their brow so intensely in all of your life! And yet you were intrigued, interested in the possibility of meeting him again.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

You were in your room studying the soft, thin glove of the clown’s that you still had in your possession. The glove was so big that it was the size of both your hands side by side, a thought that made you shiver a little.

“You still have my glove, I see?” A strange, gravelly voice startled you. Your head flicked up and a small gasp escaped your lips as your eyes rested upon the tall figure wearing an aged grey suit with puffy pantaloons and bright orange pom-poms. You shivered as his amber eyes stared down at you almost hungrily.

“I-I didn’t mean to take it, I was gonna return it to you but…” You trailed off as he chuckled roughly.

“You are so strange, you aren’t even the slightest bit afraid of me.” His smile dropped and a low growl rumbled through him. “But you will be.” He hissed. Before you could process what was happening, the clown was lunging onto the bed, his hands curling round your neck and shoving you down onto your back as he straddled you. Only a little squeak managed to pass through your lips but it was cut off but the lack of air. And then you could feel the sensation of the skin of his ungloved hand around you neck. It was so silky, so warm. Your mouth lulled open slightly and your eyelids drooped in a hazy fever of delight. The clown grunted in confusion.

“What’re you doin’?” He hissed and you chuckled slightly.

“Your hand…” You trailed off. His gloved hand tightened slightly and your brow furrowed. “No, the other.” You rasped. He was studying you now as his ungloved hand lightly squeezed, producing a whine from you. His eyes widened.

“What…I don’t understand.”

Your legs had been parted whilst he settled in between them to keep you motionless but now you slowly parted them further, rubbing your intimate area into his hips as you moved. You reached your hand to his ungloved one that was still tight around your neck and your smile became sultry.

“I like your ungloved hand…"you whispered. The clown narrowed his eyes and his head tilted in fascination. The gloved hand was gone from your neck and curiously, the clown took the tip of the index finger between his teeth and pulled his hand out of the glove, his eyes maintaining eye contact with you. The smoothness of his skin was revealed and you bit your lip softly. He smirked.

“How interesting. But a little girl like you shouldn’t be thinking of such naughty things, especially about someone like me.”

The clown spoke eerily. You reached out for his hands, carefully intertwining your fingers with his large his large ones. You leaned upwards, brushing your lips against his ear and inhaling his scent. He smelt of cotton candy and popcorn.

“I’m well over the age you think of me being, Mr Clown.” You purred. You could sense the clown’s self-control waning, the weight of his body slowly pinning you down further and his mouth beginning to water.

“But you seem so much like a little girl,” he tried. You chuckled because yes you did have slightly more youthful looks, but you had reached 20 in the past month. You brushed your lips against his ear again and you felt him quiver.

“Well then, Mr Clown, why don’t you make me a woman?” You teased. And then his composure shattered in an instant. His hands were ripped from yours, pinning your wrists above your head and his hungry lips were on yours. It was unexpected to say the very least but you were easily recovering and kissing back, wrapping your legs around his hips. He growled and pulled away from your mouth and smirked down at your flushed and panting form.

“Two things you should know, little girl. First, my name is Pennywise. That’s what I wanna hear when I fuck you. The other, well…” his smirk widened and his teeth changed, becoming more pointed and dangerous, “I’m in charge.”

His hands left your wrists and grabbed at your shirt, taking the neckline and ripping it down the front to expose your braless torso to him. You could only gasp slightly as the air in the room hit your nipples and made them erect. His eyes simply stared at your breasts, worrying you slightly. You wanted to cover yourself but the glint in Pennywise’s eye made you reconsider. After a couple more moments of awkward staring, he trailed a finger down the valley in between the two mounds, causing you to shiver. His finger felt so good, so sensual as it looped round and up your left breast, swirling around the areola but never touching the nipple. You thrust your chest upwards in hopes of him abiding to your needs but instead his other hand slammed your body down and held it in place with a growl.

“What did I say?” He snapped at you and you whimpered.

“You’re in charge.”

“I’m sorry?”

“You’re in charge, Pennywise.” You gulped. He chuckled darkly and slid the hand pushing you down to roughly grab onto your right breast, causing you to squeak in pain and surprise.

“Good girl. Now, I hope you’ll know that tonight is all about me. In fact, every night will be about my pleasure. Your body is now mine, little one.” He announced, drool dripping down onto your chest. You rubbed your lips together and moaned.

“Mmmyes…I belong to you, Pennywise…”

He took this as confirmation to be able to do as he pleased for he settled back on his knees and his hands grabbed your shorts, pulling them off your body and exposing your unclothed cunt. And that was when fear settled in. You knew he had instantly smelt it, his eyes were upon your face immediately as he calculated why you suddenly felt afraid. Then it hit him.

“You’ve…never done this befor-r-re, have you?” His squeaky voice seemed taunting as he questioned you and you shifted uncomfortably.

“N-no…” You avoided his gaze, tilting your head to the side as your cheeks reddened. He let out a giggle.

“Well, I’m sure going to have a lot of fun taking your innocence, little girl!” He cackled with glee and you bit your lip at his eagerness. You jolted when you felt his warm fingers on your scorching wet cunt, his thumb teasing the area surrounding your clit.

Your eyelids fluttered as one large finger circled around your entrance, the area sensitive to touch. Every so often, he would slip the tip in and out again, circling a little more and then slip in and out. Circle, slip. Circle, slip. You weren’t so sure how long he kept it up but it lulled you into a mess of expectation for when he would eventually enter fully but when his long finger finally thrust in to the last knuckle, you didn’t expect it at all.

Your hips thrust up off the bed, only sinking his finger deeper until his hand was pressed fully against your wet folds and a choked moan filtered through your lips, pleasing the cruel clown. And then he began to thrust the finger in and out, in and out over and over and his thumb finally pressed against your throbbing clit, flicking it and tickling it. You were panting and gasping, your hips rocking against his busy hand and he giggled gruffly, saliva dripping from his mouth onto your belly. When he added a second finger into the mix, you let out a cry for he curled the two fingers inside of you into a sensitive spot you never knew you had. You cunt was squelching and gushing around his fingers but you were far too gone to feel embarrassed.

He moved his fingers and thumb faster and faster, a warm and tingly feeling intensifying rapidly. Your whines and moans increased in volume as your orgasm approached, ready to reduce you to nothing more than a writhing mess. But as the last second before you entered oblivion, the sinful fingers were gone completely and a choked sob ripped through you.

“No! Let me cum! Please Pennywise!” You cried. With the hand that was coated in your juices, he slapped you roughly on your pussy, causing a shockwave to shake through your body and a scream to echo off the walls. He sneered down at you.

“What did I tell ya, hm? I told ya //I’m// the one in charge!”

You trembled under him, tears rolling down your cheeks onto your pillows and you sniffled.

“I’m sorry, Pennywise.” You mumbled. The clown’s eyes were so narrow they were mere slits cut into his face as he glared down at you. His hands began to fumble with his pantaloons, and it was then you noticed a very visible bulge protruding from the grey material. Your eyes widened in horror as he pulled them down just enough for his cock to be released from the taut material. It was bigger than you had ever thought it could be, and it was also pale like the rest of him, besides the tip which was a deep pink that leaked precum. There were several visible veins under the skin, a particularly strained one running along the top side of the shaft.

Pennywise smirked whilst you stared but then he was moving you, holding your thighs even further apart and shifting his hips close, his cock brushing up and down your slick. Your breath hitched as he stopped at your entrance and dipped the wide head in, and your eyes fluttered shut completely. It was a strange sensation, not necessarily painful but it wasn’t comfortable either. It was wider than his fingers for sure, filling you completely as he bottomed out, the tip now pressed against your cervix.

Unexpectedly, he waited for a moment whilst you adjusted. It was only when you opened your eyes again to gaze up at him that he slid his cock out and immediately thrust back inside, a grunt resonating from him. You were only barely used to the pressure you felt whenever he thrust in and out for now he began to pick up speed, slamming into you roughly and causing the skin on your thighs to ripple.

The sounds in the room were skin slapping, wet noises and your moans and his grunts. His right hand was down at your clit, rubbing it vigorously whilst his other hand tweaked one of your nipples. His saliva coated your body as it splattered out of his open mouth, but you liked it. You clutched at his back, your fingers gripping onto the material that was flush to his muscle structure and at risk of being ripped open. It felt so good, his cock stretching you and filling you up. The vein along the top of his cock would rub and bump against your sensitive spot inside and add to the pleasure that consumed your senses completely.

There were no thought processes in your head at that moment, only the desire for more and to come were the priority. And sure enough, you felt that warmth in your lower abdomen. You whined and panted, your nails digging into the material until you could swear you heard a rip in the mix of all the other deliciously erotic noises.

“P-Pennywise-! I think-” you couldn’t talk, a moan ripping your sentence apart. He cackled, his entire body shaking as he too succumbed to pleasure.

“You gonna cum, little one? Gonna cum on my cock? Squeeze me tighter, huh? Filthy little girl.” He growled. His pace was inhumanely fast now and stars began to twinkle in your vision. You could feel his cock throbbing inside you, and it was enough to tip you over.

Your entire body began to writhe violently as your orgasm took hold and you screamed the clown’s name, ultimately tipping him over as well. He gripped onto your body, burying his scrunched up face into your neck with a choked up growl. You felt his release in your clenched channel. A thick, hot liquid gushing into you like a faucet tap turned on fully. Your body was too small to accommodate his monsterous cock and his cum for it sputtered out of your entrance and onto the sheets below.

Neither one of you moved for a good while as you recovered from your orgasms. You had never experienced something so powerful, so draining but you were glad you had. You felt euphoric, heavenly and didn’t want this moment to end for even a second. However, that wasn’t to be for Pennywise had recovered and pulled away, his softened cock sliding out of you and flopping down wetly. He chuckled huskily and wiped himself on your bedsheets so he could tuck it away without making anymore mess.

“Ha! That was something!” He chimed. You couldn’t even speak so you smiled sluggishly. Your legs still trembled with aftershocks, still too achy to close. Cum drooled out of your gaped hole to add to the puddle already forming under your ass. You didn’t care yet though, you needed another five minutes at least to settle.

“So good…” You managed to whisper eventually. Pennywise giggled. He was no longer on the bed but instead stood to the side.

“You’d better clean up, little girl. Can’t stay like that forever!”

And with that, he was gone. You never saw the clown again.

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Yoooooooooòo this was very long and stuff but I hope it was alright haha thanks for requesting!

Tags: @kurai-ai @perfect-ginger-maniac @kaylees1414 @cupcakeatl @deaths-maiden @knaivity @oh-my-gerd @bgt1387 @kiss-my-assbut @negan1993 @iheartpennywise88 @yummypennywise @forever-a-starlight-mar-mar @rosesnpixies @super-nerd-autral @montseskellington @pattusca @penny-trash @geekguy1819 @hoe-for-daddywise @cyberkoalakitty @pppennywise

about time || t.h

Relationship: Tom Holland x reader

Summary: You want to spend more time with Tom but feel guilty about dragging him away from his work while Tom feels guilty about not spending enough time with you. 

Warnings: smut {18+}, little angst, fluff

Word Count: 1.4k

A/N: this was better in my head but oh well right


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Wrapped around your finger-Part 1

Originally posted by maryxglz

Hey, guyssss!!!!! So I decided to write a little something about my current obession- Loki. After seeing Thor:Ragnarok I finally got the inspiration and let me tell you this: TOM HIDDLESTON IS THE SEXIEST CREATURE WHICH HAS EVER LIVED ON THIS PLANET and please don’t fight me on this. Now about the story: I’m thinking about it becoming a 10-chapter-ish thing but I can’t tell for sure yet. It’s going to get smutty in the later chapters, so keep that in mind. I’ll be so happy if you enjoy reading it and then tell me what you think about it. The plot takes place just after the end of Thor:Ragnarok when Loki us staying on the Earth. So far I have only written a 2-part fan fiction about Podrick from Game of Thrones (you can check it out if you like) so I’m rather new to this writing thing. English is not my first language, so there may be some mistakes here and there. Enjoy! :-)


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Loki senced it. Everyone he passed while walking down the 5-th Avenue was holding a heart-deep hatred towards him. They were either showing it openly by glaring at him and calling him names or just avoiding eye-contact for fear he might harm them. Of course, he couldn’t care less. He found this common despise towards him rather convenient as everyone made way for him and he didn’t have to deal with the crowds. It’s not like he had anything to be in a hurry, though. After he, Thor and the people of Asgard had became refugees on the Earth, he had no particular occupation. He spent most of his days doing nothing while his brother was out there trying to get in touch with the Avengers. He knew they didn’t want to have anything to do with him and, to be honest, he found them rather boring so he didn’t even try to help his brother.

Instead, he put his efforts into wandering aimlessly along every street in New York. So far, he had seen all there is to see twice and once again reached the conclusion that Midgard was as uninteresting as it was the first time he visited it. The people had no special powers, there were no gods or monsters to fight and he was exhausted of his constant competition with Thor. As much as he wanted to remain diligent for as long as possible, his mind always seemed to go back to the same old ideas of taking over the whole world.

It was unlike him to be so occupied in his thoughts that he nearly jumped in surprise when he felt something bump into his chest. Next thing he knew, he was laying on the curb and hot liquid was dripping from his leather jacket. The smell of strong coffee hit his nose just as the girl now lying on top of him had crashed into him. She looked up from his chest and when she saw his green eyes staring questiongly into her dark brown ones she quickly jumped into a sitting position.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry! I should have seen you walking towards meeting!” she exclaimed, gesturing furiously. “I wasn’t at all paying attention to where I was going. I’m in a huge rush because I’m like” she paused for a second to take a breath. Loki just now realized that she was panting, probably from running. “I’m like really late, you know. I’m so sorry again. Maybe I could buy you a new shirt? I could use one too. "She sighed and looked down at her now ruined coat.

The cup of coffee still remained in her hand, although it was perfectly empty now, it’s contents having formed massive stains onto the two people’s clothing.

"Take a breath and then talk, for God’s sake. ”

Loki wasn’t really furious or anything. His voice just naturally sounded raspy and angry. Had this happened two or three months ago while he was still in his home, he would have killed the stupid girl even before she had tripped and spilled her drink on him. But now he was so bored with his new lifestyle that even this unlucky encounter seemed somewhat appealing to him. Or maybe it was the girl he found appealing, one could never know with this kind if a man. She was, indeed, pretty attractive. She was somehow petite, not too curvy but far from flat at the same time. Her ebony hair fell over her shoulders beautifully, forming the littlest of waves on it’s way down to her waist. Her olive complexion was shouting “South European!” and her full arched eyebrows werre looking at him with such concern and embarrassment that he found this picture adoring. There was no way he was going to let her know that, though.

“Ah… Umm… I just wanted to say that I’m really sorry. "She finally said and looked down at her lap.

"I recall you already did that. Twice. "He was merciless to the poor girl.

She didn’t seem to be more than 20-something and yet her shyness was getting the best of her. Finally, she realized that they were both sitting on the pavement and people had gathered to watch them. She stood up quickly and Loki followed.

"So don’t you have a super important arrangement to attend to, Miss…?” She almost sighted in relief when he decided to spare her his tortures.

“You can just call me Cleo. It seems like I already missed my appointment so I might as well just skip it. ”

“I see. ”

“So what is your name? I have to know if I’m going to have "Please forgive me” printed on a T-shirt and sent out to your house. “

She stepped awkwardly from one foot on the other biting her lip and looking to the ground.

"I’m the God of Mischief, young lady, and I can tell easily when someone is lying. Don’t pretend you don’t know who I am.” Don’t pretend you don’t hate me, he wanted to add.

“Okay then, don’t attack me! I’m just trying to be friendly and to my belief, no one really knows someone else until they had presented themselves to them. ”


He let out a sly little laugh. This girl was something else.

“Loki of Asgard, then.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Loki of Asgard. ” Cleo finally looked up at him and for a moment he was trapped in that capturing gaze of hers. Then he returned his posture.

“Now, miss, I believe it’s high time we got these nasty-looking stains out so they don’t bother us while we have some more coffee.”

Cleo blinked not understanding but when she opened her eyes the coffee spills were gone. She blinked once more.

“But.. How?” Was all she could utter.

“That’s called magic, love. Sadly, you don’t have any of it on Midgard. ” he said this in a way which showed that he wasn’t at all sorry, but instead was boasting proudly about his abilities.

She looked confused and yet so fascinated by the numerous possibilities she could project taking place with the help of some magic. Her mind was in a whirl.

“Shall we go now?”

Cleo just nodded absent-mindedly and followed close behind him as he made his way through the crowds. Loki knew, for fact, that he had her wrapped around his finger. Now he was going to show her a world she had never even dreamt of. Little did he know, things were going to take an unexpected turn very soon.

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Part 2

4

I’m procrastinating on studying for midterms by posting this >.< I want to post more but I haven’t been bullet journalling recently because I have the same to-do list every day (just going through homework for each class) and I feel like it’s more efficient just to write down things I want to do on a post-it note. I found roses on campus though and they look pretty nice!! *-* I have midterms on Wednesday and Friday this week, and I’m really really stressed because they’re for math and physics. I guess doing well in these courses means knowing how to do the problems, so studying means less memorization and more just doing a shit ton of practice questions, which can be really tiring :( On a side note, life has had big ups and big downs recently, though I think it’s more or less settled down for now. I really really love my new friends and I’m beyond grateful for them. It’s really strange because in high school I had a very similar group of friends all the way from middle school until the end of high school, but in three weeks I’ve made friends with some random people, and I guess now that there are new people in my life, when I reflect on the relationship dynamics it’s all a bit weird. Sometimes you meet someone and you really click, but you don’t see them for two weeks after because you don’t have any classes together. Or sometimes something happens to the two of you and your entire relationship shifts, either in a good or bad way. Also, my friend once told me that if he could have a superpower, he would want know the intent behind what people say and do. Initially I thought that was kind of a weird power to want, but I understand it completely now because I guess most of the time you can’t really tell why someone is doing what they’re doing and I just want to knowwww. Conclusion: LIFE IS WEIRD AND I’M SORRY THIS POST IS SO TERRIBLY LONG